When You Are Near
by CompassionAndCaring
Summary: Highschool AU. Sam is Kripke High's nerd and everyone's target for bullying. Gabriel Deysaw is the popular kid that everyone loves. It's a typical love story filled with crushes, friendship, and obstacles. Inspired by imagine-sabriel's highschool AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my third SPN fic, and I hope you guys enjoy it! It's going to be a work in progress of course, and I got the prompt/thing for it from post/75740122499/highschool-au. It's an absolutely lovely Sabriel blog and if you're a hardcore shipper you should definitely check it out! Review please! Also, warnings for homophobia and bullying in this!**

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Through the thin hallways and classroom walls of Kripke High, not a single soul couldn't hear someone yell, "Hey, Poindexter! Been to the Fag Convention lately?" And you could bet money on it, just about all of the students (and some of the teachers) laughed or held back a smile along with it. They weren't the most wonderful people, and no one would do anything about it, because they thought it was hilarious.

Well, everyone except for Sam Winchester, the school's obligatory nerdy and unpopular kid. His features consisted of a tall, lanky build of a body (six feet tall and still growing), floppy brown hair that always fell in front of his wire-rimmed glasses, ripped up jeans from the many falls he had endured from bullies, a plain gray sweater from the thrift store downtown, and blue braces that he's had since middle school.

Not only was he teased and harassed for his looks, but everyone in town knew that Dean, Sam's older brother, dropped out of high school three years ago. Dean just always gave up when it came to homework, and since the Winchester family moved frequently from place to place after a house fire killed their mother sixteen years ago...Dean was never able to catch up on anything and stopped caring.

And that made them believe that Dean was stupid, or just didn't care about himself. But that wasn't the case at all, the teachers never gave him the time of day for him to catch up on his work or to make sure he was on the same level as the other kids. As a result, Sam became known as the 'kid with the dropout brother' among other things. But Dean was happy, working in Bobby's garage or Ellen's bar, making more money than most did.

So after hearing his daily insult from someone, Sam trudged through the halls, head hung in shame and also avoiding the eyes of people's stares and smirks. All of Sam's few friends were home sick with the flu, so today he ate lunch alone.

But that was alright by him, he had spent most of his school days by himself, so he brought his math textbook and read it while munching on his sandwich, occasionally fixing his glasses when the slid down his nose...he needed new ones, this pair being too big to fit properly onto his face. His dad refused to pay for new ones, saying that Sam could suck it up and deal with it like a real man.

Trying to drown out the snickers and chattering surrounding him, Sam tried desperately not to cringe at the small whispers of 'fag' or 'fairy' directed towards him. He never understood homophobia; why be afraid of someone's sexuality if it has nothing to do with you?

Also why care about the gender someone prefers to sleep with as long as it's consensual and safe? It wasn't his fault he was gay, it was just who he was. And if people couldn't deal with that, it was their problem, not Sam's.

But that didn't make their words hurt any less.

A ball of paper was thrown onto Sam's table, and he looked up from his book to see who threw it, but everyone was now talking to their own groups of friends and didn't seem to notice the bewildered nerdy kid. Grabbing the paper and opening it, Sam expected it was some pathetic insult made by the group of jocks that sat next to his table, or maybe it was just a piece of trash someone decided to throw at him. That was pretty normal for Sam Winchester.

It took him a while to finally open it, but eventually he did, and it read in messy handwriting:

_Meet me behind the school building at 3 tomorrow, I've got something for you, kiddo._

Sam couldn't believe what he was seeing. He almost thought he was asleep and this was all some dream. Pinching himself and wincing, Sam now knew that this was reality.

The only person that Sam knew who said 'kiddo' to anyone was Gabriel Deysaw, the infamous prankster that tortured students and teachers. He was a good guy, just loved to screw around with people. He was loyal to his friends and charming to those who caught his eye. Gabriel oozed confidence and popularity, and everyone wanted to be around him.

Short with gold eyes and honey brown hair, Sam had a small crush on him the minute he saw him freshman year, and it stuck ever since, his stomach doing flips whenever he saw him in the hallways or his heart pounding when someone mentioned his name.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't small...but it was still a crush.

Sam crumpled the paper back into a ball and stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans. Smiling shyly to himself, butterflies found their way to Sam's stomach and he secretly could not wait till tomorrow. He found it hard to concentrate on his textbook, barely being able to focus without thinking about tomorrow and the person he'd be seeing. The words just seemed to jumble together and appear like a blob of ink, and sounded like nothing.

The lunch bell rang and students poured out of the cafeteria, shoving their way past Sam and telling him to move. But he didn't care, not letting their verbal stabs bother him.

He had something to look forward to for once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for such a long wait! I was working on my other stories, like the then momentous task of finishing _I'll Try to Help You._ Combined with life and school things, it was almost impossible for me to sit down and write. But anyways, here is another chapter! Trigger warning for bullying at the beginning of this chapter! Also, there is implied Destiel in this chapter, if you're wondering. **

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Several hours later, the bell rang and school was finally over. Sam sighed in relief of being able at the end of the day to walk away from it all. It was exhilarating and refreshing...who knew just leaving a towering brick building filled with dread and horror could give you such a sense of relaxation. Adjusting his glasses, Sam braced himself for the pushes and shoves that he got on his way out.

Walking to the doors that lead to freedom, Sam felt a pair of strong hands press themselves against his upper back and hurl his body forward. Flying, Sam managed to catch himself against a wall next to the glass doors. He didn't bother to see who did it, knowing that it didn't matter. Nothing would be done about it, it never did.

He learned to live with it.

And he knew that he shouldn't, Sam knew that eventually he would have to stand up for himself. Otherwise he'd be pushed around for the rest of his life. He had to earn respect, to show people that he was a human being and didn't deserve to be pummeled or treated horribly.

But that was pushed aside for another day. It always was.

Opening the door, Sam breathed in a breath of clean, fresh air. It felt amazing, completely unlike the stuffy, tense air that he always breathed inside the monstrosity that he called a school. Sure you could open a window, but it wasn't the same.

Standing in front of the building, scuffling his tennis shoes against the asphalt, he waited for the only family he ever knew.

And soon enough, the ever familiar Chevy came flying in front of him. Well, not really _flying _but with the way Dean drives sometimes, it might as well be. Sam honestly didn't know how Dean has never gotten in an accident before, but then again if he did there'd be hell to pay for wrecking his 'Baby'. That car was Dean's pride and joy, and loved it to pieces. But he'd cry instead if it really ended up in pieces.

With the windows rolled down, classic rock blared through the speakers. Today it was Boston's _More Than a Feeling,_ which admittedly, Sam rather liked himself. At least Dean wasn't ruining it by singing this time.

"Hey, Sammy. School alright? Talk to your little man-crush at all?" Dean teased. Dean knew full well how 'Sammy' was his little brother's least favorite nickname, and also about Sam's infatuation with Gabriel Deysaw, and poked fun at him on occasion. Sam didn't mind it, more fond of it if it came from his brother rather than anyone else.

"Sammy is a chubby twelve-year old's name. It's Sam. And no...I didn't say anything to my 'man-crush'. Doesn't even know I exist," Sam replied with exasperation. Dean held his hands up in surrender, with a small shit-eating smirk on his face. Rolling his eyes, Sam walked around the Impala and got into the front passenger's seat, his spot.

Shutting the car door, Sam smiled, "What about you? What's his name...Castiel Hale? The librarian?" Dean's jaw tightened, and a rough blush of color coated his face, making Sam laugh out loud. While his older brother knew about Sam's crush, he knew about how Dean was head over heels in love with the blue-eyed, raven-haired librarian that worked downtown.

Sam was good friends with Castiel, calling him 'Cas' just like Dean did, and liking the socially awkward yet knowledgable man. They talked about history as much as they could whenever possible, and both had a love for books. Dean was the opposite, confident and also didn't really like to read. Whenever Dean went to the library with Sam, which wasn't often, Cas would give him the usual "Hello, Dean." and ask if there was anything that he was looking for. Somehow, the man left Dean reduced to a stuttering, blushing mess. With Castiel oblivious to it all.

In all honesty, Sam thought the sooner Dean finally asked him on a date, the sooner all this outrageous sexual tension would end.

"...Shut up," Dean muttered bitterly, and started the car up. The engine roared, and they went home.

The Winchesters lived in a small, slightly unsettling trailer at the edge of town. Painted a faint dusty rose, it looked about as normal as any trailer. And it was, that was the annoying part. Parking in front of their home, both brothers exited the car, Sam throwing his backpack over his shoulder, ready to get some homework done.

Opening the door, Sam and Dean found the trailer empty, their dad probably working still at Bobby's garage. He didn't usually come till late in the evening hours, so they both had the place to themselves. Plopping on the couch, Dean turned on the small TV and Xbox in their living room. Dean liked games, cars, booze, girls, guys, and all fun things. Only four years older than Sam, he sometimes acted like the younger one. Sam was mature for his age, often rolling his eyes at his generation, that sometimes throughly disappointed him.

Looking up at Sam from the couch, Dean held up a controller, "Want to play? I'll kick your ass like last time."

Sam shook his head, "I got homework to do, I'll play later."

Rolling his eyes, Dean turned his attention to the bright X now on the screen, "Bitch."

"Jerk."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you Fayre Amore and gothichic for your reviews to last chapter! Also, thank you to those who reviewed for the first chapter also. :) I love it. Here's another chapter, with trigger warnings for bullying, violence, and one non-con kiss from someone no one really likes. Gabriel appears in this chapter too, if that makes it any better!**

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The next morning, the shrill sound of Sam's alarm clock yanked him out of his peaceful sleep. The stupid clock startled him, almost having him fall out of his bed. But he caught himself on the edge of his mattress. Groaning, Sam pulled his body back onto his bed and laid there for five minutes, trying to get the annoying tired feeling out of his bones. Along with contemplating sleeping and just not going to school at all. Waking up on a school day was usually that, as most of you know.

Heading to the bathroom and scrubbing his face with the cold water from the sink. The small shock woke Sam up fully, and peering at his reflection in the mirror, as much as he could see it without his glasses, he fixed his hair. But that wasn't very useful, as it always looked messy and floppy. Regardless, he tried his best, the fuzzy feeling creeping back into his stomach as he remembered that today was the day that he was going to be Gabriel.

Honestly, Sam didn't know what he did to deserve it. Wasn't it awfully cliché that the biggest nerd at school fell for the popular kid...or maybe even vice versa? But Sam reminded himself not get his hopes up, as more often than not they weren't met. Bigger expectations led to bigger disappointments. What would Gabriel possibly see attractive in him? He had ugly glasses, braces, old clothes, and was too smart for his own good.

Sam's thoughts now wandered to the who he was going to meet. Light brown almost gold eyes, smooth hair a similar color, and a personality that could both annoy the hell out of you and draw you closer.

Gabriel always played pranks on virtually anyone with his two best friends Crowley and Balthazar. Most of the adventures in mischief were usually good-natured, but some weren't. Such as the one time they all stuck a blow horn underneath every teacher's chair, and being the rolling ones, it sunk down once you sat on it. So honestly, hearing almost every classroom erupt in ear-splitting noise wasn't the nicest thing to hear during a test.

Sam's personal favorite though was in first grade, they had replaced the filling in Michael and Lucifer's Oreos with toothpaste. Both twins deserved it, as they either tortured or bossed everyone around. The looks on each twins' face was priceless and Sam would still remember it years to come. Maybe it was a dumb prank, but he loved it nonetheless.

He also likes to think it was because of what happened the day before, when Lucifer took Sam's glasses and was tall enough for them to be completely out of Sam's reach. Michael laughed next to him, telling him that unless they gave him the answers to their next spelling test he wouldn't get them back. Eventually, Sam gave in and got his precious glasses back. Dean wasn't there to help him, as fifth graders had a different recess time.

But Sam remembered seeing in the corner of his eye, three figures shaking their heads and looking like they were planning something. One was dressed in all black, the other two in different colors, both had blonde hair, but one more brown than the other. Also, one had a lollipop in his hand.

Maybe it was coincidence, but either way it worked. The twins never bothered anyone again.

So he smiled and gave contented sigh, Sam brushed his teeth (trying to get around the irritatingly blue braces locked on them). Rinsing and spitting the water in his mouth, he wiped his face with a hand towel and left the bathroom. In the kitchen Sam could hear Dean cooking breakfast. He shook his head, knowing that Dean had a soft, domestic side to him. No doubt Castiel would like that.

Of course, the youngest Winchester knew, that his brother and friend were in a relationship, but soon enough they might be. Either that or Sam was sick and tired of seeing Dean pin over him and not bother to do anything forward.

A nervous feeling tied Sam's stomach into knots. Who knows what could happen? He certainly didn't. But being a Winchester, he shrugged it off and pushed the anxiousness down. He wasn't backing out of it.

Heading back into his bedroom, Sam shrugged on a blue and white plaid shirt and his favorite pair of jeans; the nicest clothes he had. This was the most confident moment he had in months...maybe years. It felt good. Hell, even amazing. Spraying on a decent amount of body spray, Sam grabbed his bag and left the room; ready to go and seize the day.

_Several hours later..._

School came and went, and soon enough three in the afternoon rolled around. Sam rushed out of the building as fast as he could without getting into trouble, and for once he actually avoided the oncoming storm of shoves and verbal slurs. Pushing his body out the front doors, Sam didn't think he could have move any slower. He wanted to go, _now. _

Heading around the brick building, Sam prepared himself for anything, maybe it was just something platonic or something entirely different. He felt like he was going to throw up, and desperately hoped that wouldn't actually happen. He was shaking, and a little dizzy. As much as Sam didn't expect too much to happen, he didn't understand why he was making such a large deal out of it. His life wasn't going to take a large, drastic turn no matter what this would end up as.

But he honestly wasn't expecting a fist to fly towards him.

Sam managed to duck just in time, the clenched fist missing him by a few inches. Looking up, he saw a disgustingly yellow-ish pair of eyes stare at him. Fighting the urge to hit back, Sam kept his composure. Violence wasn't always the best answer to problems, but sometimes it felt like a damn good one.

"Aww...look. It's precious Sammy Winchester. How are ya? Didja think I was your precious little _Gabriel?_" Azazel asked, his voice venomous yet cunningly smooth. It made Sam's stomach churn, and he kept his mouth shut, knowing what he wanted to really say would only make this worse.

Shaking his head, Azazel continued on, "I saw that little note he gave you, kid. Awfully sweet if you ask me. Don't worry, he'll come, I just stalled him a bit. He doesn't know I'm here. Still thinks you're all alone, waiting faithfully for him. School is so boring, so I might as well make it fun for me, huh?"

Azazel was the worst out of all the people Sam had ever encountered at Kripke High. Being a senior, he could really do what ever he wanted. His friends were Alastair and anyone else who had to follow someone awful to get by. He was creepy, ruthless, and had the oddest eyes that seemed to just..._stare. _

Sam felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and that only made Azazel more amused. He laughed, a cold, hollow sound that filled the air, "Not going to say anything? Too bad...I prefer people to talk. By the way, I sorta..._mentally_ promised Gabriel I'd keep you warm for him. He likes you, Sam. And I'd _certainly_ hate to spoil it."

Creeping closer to where Sam was standing, Azazel moved closer. Trying to get away, Sam's breath quickened, afraid of what was going to happen. But he couldn't move, as a hand wrenched his face forward. His face only an inch from Azazel's, Sam could smell something like sulfur on him, and really tried this time not to vomit.

"You're so pretty. Shame Gabriel doesn't get you first," Azazel whispered, before planting a wet kiss on Sam's neck. The contact sent a gut-wrenching tremor through Sam's whole body, and he felt trapped. He was prepared to call out, to do anything to get this freak off of him. But his voice was gone, too much in shock and disgust. He felt cold, and wanted to be anywhere but here.

But it finally ended when someone forcefully pulled Azazel off of Sam. It felt like he could finally breathe again, and Sam saw his savior. And while he was a bit embarrassed and annoyed he was being 'saved' so to speak, he still appreciated nonetheless. It was Gabriel, wearing the dark jacket that Sam remembered falling in love with from the start.

Shoving Azazel up against the brick walls of the school, Gabriel held him up by his collar, despite being a good few inches shorter. Azazel's yellow eyes widened, obviously taken aback by what happened. It was so sudden, so quick.

"Hey, asshole. I'd prefer you not to be such a douchebag to others. Could ya do that for me? Thanks...now get lost," Gabriel growled, his voice menacing and protective. Instead of the desired effect of dread and instant running away, Azazel just laughed and shook his head. Gabriel's stare turned harder, and he let go of the collar before slamming him again against the wall. This time with more force.

"Did you not hear me? I said, get out of here. Take a bath while you're at it, asshat." And instead of laughing even more, Azazel for once listened to someone other than himself and went off. Probably because he didn't want to get slammed into a brick wall again, who would? Those things hurt. Trudging away, Azazel muttered something under his breath before disappearing from Sam and Gabriel's sight.

Brushing off imaginary filth from his clothes, Gabriel looked up at Sam and smiled, looking completely different from before. Sam smiled, grateful for what just happened. As much as he was angry with himself for not standing up for himself and having someone else save him, he was more than happy to see that creep leave him alone.

"Sorry I was late, Sasquatch. Piss-Eyes over there got me in trouble with Ye Olde Principal over a small soda and Mentos incident," Gabriel smiled, voice now cheeky and confident.

Sam could have sworn he might be falling in love all over again.

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**This story isn't done yet! We still got a small ways to go. I just needed to stop before I bore you guys to death. Review if you can!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all so much for your amazing reception! Getting alerts like that makes my day a million times better. I didn't think people would enjoy this story as much as they seem to! I was going to update _way_ earlier...but I just had a really bad day today. I'm so sorry that this chapter is really short! But it's only a filler with a little plot for the stuff to come! Nothing triggering in this chapter, though!**

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"So, kiddo. You got my note? I could have written something longer or whatever. But I like to keep things short and sweet, as you can see," Gabriel said, gesturing to himself.

Sam smiled, showing those dreaded braces completely. Despite how he initially thought the shorter teen would react to seeing them, Gabriel's impish grin only grew wider. He almost looked smitten, but Sam thought it was a trick of the light, even though the sky was gray and cloud-covered.

Just realizing that Gabriel had said something, Sam shook himself out of looking at his savior. And pulled out the note from the pocket of his jeans, "Uh, yeah. I-I did. You said you had something for me?" A cold breeze blew, shoving Sam's bangs in front of his glasses, and sticking some of the hair between them and his eyes. He frowned and brush them out as quickly as he could, silently hoping that Gabriel wouldn't notice. Sure it wouldn't make much of a difference, it was after all blowing his honey-colored hair too, but Sam just wanted to make sure.

Gabriel winked, looking sly as usual, "Well...that depends."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion as he adjusted his glasses, "Depends on what?" he asked. Gabriel crept closer, till he was only an inch or so away, making Sam cringe slightly, remembering what just happened not too long ago with Azazel. The shorter boy noticed, and apologetically nodded before moving back. Sam pasted a small smile, nothing more than a twitch in his lips, but enough to tell Gabriel he appreciated it nonetheless.

"Well...honestly, I don't have anything for ya. I just wanted to come see you. We've never talked before, you know. And I think you're pretty darn cute, Sammy," Gabriel replied, still having a cheeky tone in his voice. Sam blushed, not expected that at all. But why didn't Gabriel just talk to him during school instead of having them come all around the building after hours?

And that's exactly what Sam asked, "So..why didn't you just decide to talk to me during class or something?" Gabriel blinked, the smallest amount of shock in his eyes, making them wide. His smile diminished and Sam was almost afraid he had said the wrong thing, but he didn't care. He had spoken his mind and didn't bother to think otherwise. In a way, he stood up for himself, and that's something Sam had wanted to do for a long time.

Gabriel blinked once more, and swallowed, "I've seen you get pushed around for being gay, and I think people seeing you talk to a guy would only make their thoughts on the matter worse. All the kids here," he said, pointing at the bricks behind them, "are homophobic pricks. And I didn't want it to get any harder for you, Sam."

Sam quirked an eyebrow and shook his head, not entirely believing it, "I can take care of myself, Gabriel. It's not your fault they have a problem about it." He rubbed the back of his neck, instantly feeling ever so slightly uncomfortable talking about the subject of his own bullying and social torture. Gabriel's eyes hardened, and he looked suddenly protective and fierce. Sam threw a questioning look, wondering why the smaller boy looked so...different.

"It is my fault, I haven't done anything about it. If no one else is going to help you out in _this _hell hole, I might as well. Sam, I've been bi since I was fourteen. I'm open about it, but the reason no one says anything about it is because they're afraid."

That segment of news rang in Sam's ears. He had always known Gabriel was charismatic, but that didn't really mean anything. Sam had only ever seen him flirting with girls, never guys. That also didn't mean too much, but it had prevented the thought of Gabriel ever having a sense of attraction towards the nerdy, floppy haired teenager that was Sam Winchester.

Sam's jaw tightened, "...But I can take care of myself, Gabe. I don't need anyone to look after me. I've gotten used to it."

"You shouldn't have to. And whether you like it or not...I'm looking after you, kiddo. Call it a loyal, or really pestering bone in my body. You gotta get used to it."

Feeling a faint hint of a smile grace his lips, Sam was grateful for his honey-haired, short protector. It reminded him of Dean, except ever so slightly not as irritating. In a small sense, it feels nice to be looked after. Whether or not you want it.


	5. Chapter 5

**OH MY I'M SO SORRY FOR CHAPTERS 3 AND 4 BEING THE SAME. Thank you zemydemyx66 for pointing that out! I'm so so so sorry for that, oh my gosh. But either way, thank you for your fantastic reception! Sabriel will forever be my favorite pairing, and I'm glad I can share that with you guys. Trigger warning for past and present bullying along with homophobia in this chapter! This one is a two-part also, and ends quickly, I'm sorry!**

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Over the next few weeks, the bullying and daily torture Sam ensued almost diminished. But only when Gabriel was around, which as often as he was, there always was moments were their classes weren't together or one had a different matter to attend to. Sam had gotten to know Gabriel's companions, Crowley and Balthazar. While it did take some getting used to, with Balthazar's somewhat crude sense of humor and Crowley's intense nature to fuck around with anything _and_ anyone in his path.

Since Sam's few friends were still "sick", or really just playing _World of Warcraft_ when they could get a day off from school, so Gabriel and the crew have never really met them so far. But there was a first time for anything.

Either way, whenever Gabriel and the gang weren't around, someone without a doubt, found some way to bother Sam. Whether it be a simple shove or a loud shout from down the hall, it was made regardless. In order to bully the tall, lanky, nerdy teenager that was Samuel Winchester, all you had to do was wait for him to be alone. Without the guardian and protector that was Gabriel Deysaw.

It could be far worse, with the things happening like they were before. Sam knows the nurse on a first name basis, and she knows his house's number by heart. As stubborn as he is, Sam knows when it's time to get help. A few months ago, after a few large bruises and a split lip, he finally gave in, knowing that a teacher was going to say something eventually, even though internally they didn't want to.

The nurse, a kind yet rather feisty woman named Meg Masters, sighed and told him to sit down and get comfortable. She didn't even need to ask that day, knowing exactly what happened. Being the woman she is, every time after Sam's visit, she'd always go to the principal to tell him about the bullying and constant injuries that Sam Winchester has suffered. But she was always given the 'We are doing the best we can' spiel after her rant.

Even though she tries her hardest, there's only so much she can do.

But that doesn't happen too much anymore, as long as the afore-mentioned group was nearby. Don't think Sam was still completely happy and grateful that he was 'protected'. Because, honestly, he wasn't entirely. Every time Gabriel was gone, he had the eating feeling of fear and dread. He had manage to hide all the marks, bruises, and small tears left from his daily beating. So his protectors were completely oblivious, they never figured it out or knew.

It started out small, but it steadily grew worse with each passing week that Sam was in the care of Gabriel and his buddies.

Today started like any normal day, with classes and the like. But it was snowing hard outside, so everyone was either soaked in the morning and damp the rest of the day or snowed in. Kripke High decided not to cancel today. And as a result, students and facility were upset and angry with it, wishing that they could have slept in and stare at the bleak, desolate snow cover from afar.

Some students chose to take their irrational anger out on someone.

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Sitting at the lunch table, Sam laughed along with a stupid joke Gabriel was telling. He did this everyday, and surprisingly, it never got old.

Most of the time.

Along with the several weeks of being in their group, Sam ultimately became more confident and comfortable around Gabriel. Gabriel was completely unaware of it by the looks, much to Sam's relief Sure he still had a massive crush on him, but he hid it better now. Or at least he tried, he sometimes stuttered and blushed whenever the golden-eyed teen talked to him or looked in his direction. Sam was still somewhat shy and nervous too, the glasses and braces only adding to it for him.

Okay...he _was_ trying!

"So, Sam. I heard that your rather ravishing brother Dean has been hanging out with Cassie?" Balthazar asked, in his charming British accent and smooth words. Turns out, Castiel is Balthazar's cousin. They're close, by what Sam's heard. And Balthazar has a bit of a protective/hostile side to him, so the night after Sam learned the news, he told Dean.

Gabriel and Crowley looked over, before deciding not to intervene and instead talked among themselves. Undoubtedly about some future prank or epic fuck-over with someone.

Sam took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged, "Yeah, seems like it. Why?"

The blonde winked, "Just wondering." There was no doubt in Sam's mind that Balthazar was most likely planning Dean's execution if anything happened to Cas. But Dean knew better, and as much of a jerk as he is, he's got respect for people. Especially the ones he likes.

Lunch passed quickly, and Sam sighed, knowing that his least favorite class was right next: gym. Sure he was in shape and fit, but that still didn't mean he was going to enjoy getting sweaty and playing sports where he'd rather be reading or doing something quieter. None of his friends shared the same gym time as he did, so he was all alone. What a coincidence.

Heading through the large double doors, Sam quickly headed to the warmer locker rooms to get changed, the cold air circulating through the gym making him shiver. He was the first in the gymnasium, so hopefully he'd be able to get in and out quicker or have some privacy for a bit.

Opening the door, he hurried as fast as he could to his gym locker where his shorts and t-shirt were. The room was clear, lockers to one side and showers and bathroom to the other. Going quickly, Sam changed in the bathroom stall and try as fast as he could to get settled. Cursing himself and all the sodas he drank the minutes before, he heard the clash and stomps of the other male students coming in.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Finishing soon after, he flushed the toilet and hurried over to the sink, putting his clothes on the cement floor beneath him. He could see the guys in the mirror, talking among one another about basketball and something else Sam honestly couldn't care less about.

Drying his hands off with a paper towel, he threw it in the trash and scurried over to his locker before shoving his clothes inside. Laughter surrounded him, and Sam already knew that it wasn't all about sports and shit like that.

A loud, obnoxious voice confirmed his suspicions, "Hey, look you guys. It's little, gay Sammy Winchester. I've seen you with Gabe and his crew, why would they let some faggot like _you _hang with them?

"Maybe because I'm not an asshole like you," Sam spat, already sick and tired of it. He didn't deserve to be treated this way, Gabriel was right.

A series of loud 'Oooooooo's' clouded over. And all at once, they started belittling the taller, scrawnier boy. Sam couldn't tell who was saying what, it was all too loud and constant. He shoved his way through, just wanting to get the gym and get this stupid class over with. But he was pulled back by the shirt of his collar, and thrown down onto the ground.

He cried out, the hard cement ground smacking forcefully against his back. The others circling around him chuckled, taking in the sight of him down. Sam tried to pull himself back up, not going down without a fight, but soon was brought back to the ground by a large shoe coming down on his chest. Loud shouts of 'fairy', 'poof', 'faggot', and ' nerdy queer' filled the air. Sam felt like he couldn't breathe. He just wanted to go, fade into oblivion, all for this to end.

But it didn't.

A large fist came flying in front of him, landing on his right eye. Sam cried out again, pain shooting through the back of his eye and all around it. Another punch came, then another and another. And before he knew it, the world became black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you all so ****much for the favorites, follows, and reviews! :D I love it. Don't worry, Sam gets his revenge soon, and by soon I mean in this chapter! Warnings for homophobia and a little violence in this chapter, because people like to use slurs. Please also remember I do _not_ condone any bullying or homophobia, as a past bully victim and bisexual person myself, I'm extremely against it and believe that it doesn't get anyone anywhere _but_ backwards.**

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Laying on the cold, hard floor, Sam pulled himself up. His head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and throbbed, while his back and chest burned horribly. Immobile and aching, he sighed, that mostly being a groan mixing with an exhale of breath. Turning his head carefully, Sam spied the clock perched above the cold green lockers. He had only been out for five minutes; there was still another forty before class was over.

Standing himself up, the teen clutched his stomach, feeling the bruises still slowly forming across. Wincing, he shuffled on stiff legs to the mirror above the sink, head pounding.

He didn't look as bad as he initially thought he would, apart for the small scratches on the edge of his jaw and the shiner now forming on his eye. Searching for his glasses, he found them a foot away from him, miraculously untouched. Putting them on, Sam could finally see clearer, instead of just blurs of color.

_Could be worse, _he thought to himself. Splashing water onto his skin, Sam felt a little better, the cool liquid welcoming on his seemingly burning flesh. He couldn't help but ever so slightly lean into the sink, wanting more. Giving a small breath of pleasure, he turned the tap off and dried himself with a few paper towels. The aches running up and down his body felt weaker and less profound, and eventually his head felt like it wasn't going to explode.

Sam sat on one of the benches perched in the middle of the room: mostly made for an obstacle in the act of moving around than a recreational thing. He dared to go out there, into the gymnasium where his attackers were. He didn't want to seem weak, but at the same time he was afraid of what would possibly happen next. He had seen news articles of bullying gone way too far, and often the victim was gay, like himself.

But Sam couldn't just let them get away with this, this was the last time. The teen was sick and tired of it, all of it. And he wanted out.

Feeling braver, and definitely stronger, he took a deep breath before venturing out into the gym. The colder air shocking against his battered skin, and he involuntarily winced. Mindless chatter filled the air, along with the pounding of feet against the polished wood, that mostly didn't look natural anymore.

A tiny voice in his brain kept telling him that what he was doing was wrong, and that violence is never the answer. _Don't fight fire with fire, you'll be just as worse as them, _it pleaded. And as much as Sam wanted to listen to it, he kept going, walking over to where the group, only six, of his bullies where standing, watching the girls run laps.

He rolled his eyes at the sight, he glanced at the banners draped across the high walls, showing off all the school's accomplishments in sports. People stared at him, wondering why he looked so beaten and why he was looking mindlessly at the banners. But they kept going with their laps or whatever they were doing; in fear of being caught doing nothing.

A surge of energy pulsed through him, ready for a fight. His fingers curled tightly into a fist, along with a micro twitch appearing in the corner of his mouth. Standing only a few feet from the group, he could still hear their conversations, mostly mock whispers. Undoubtedly about him.

"The fuck is he doing back out? What a dumbass," someone muttered, with a tone of superiority leaking through. That statement didn't bother him as much as the next one did, coming from the same nameless person that mostly beat the hell out of Sam earlier.

"Just like his brother, I heard. Apparently Dean, or wha'ever his name is, dropped out a while ago, couldn't pass a simple thing of homework."

That destructive sentence made Sam's blood boil. Stalking closer to the group until he was just on the outside of it. He could handle the insults thrown at him, usually, but once you threw his brother into the equation...you'd best run. It felt like everything was on fire, and Sam couldn't wait to hit something.

And so he did.

It was just some random guy, but one he remembered from the locker room incident before. Just a follower, with nothing to say for himself but follow the leader. Regardless of their intentions.

Just a simple punch to the back, it was enough to send him to the ground. Unlike what most thought, Sam Winchester wasn't a dainty thing, he could handle his own. It just took him a while.

It felt amazing, finally giving just desserts. A feeling of relief washed over the teen.

Everyone else in the crowd turned around at the sound of a body falling, and stood in small shock. A few scowled, not liking the interruption of their talking and mild objectification towards the girls in the gym. Seeing an incoming fist, Sam grabbed it just in time, his reflexes kicking in. Dean taught him a few tricks, for when something like this happened. He didn't want his little brother defenceless.

"Wait your turn," Sam growled, and with that, he threw his attempted attacker to the ground, lying next to the other. No one else in the gym seemed to notice, most of them pulling out their Ipods to listen to music, and the gym teacher was busy in his office talking to the janitor. Perfect.

The other four remaining threw themselves at Sam, and one landed a fierce right hook to his ribs. It knocked the wind out of him, and white dots appeared in front of his eyes before he went back to himself. Twisting the bully's arm around, Sam smacked him against the hard wall, and watched him slump down, clearly tired from what just happened.

Adrenaline pumped through Sam's body, and instantly felt faster, stronger, and more focused. The bruises still wrapped around his chest and other areas still throbbed, but they didn't feel like much. His eye was swollen, leaving little to see through. But he kept going, knowing now he couldn't go back.

The three left were easy, just a small mix of ducking and one kick in the shins, and they were out. Six bodies, all writhing in some sort of pain, laid around Sam, who was standing and panting. People were now just starting to see what just happened, and were gaping at the tall boy with wide eyes and open mouths. Looking at the gym teacher's office, he could see the janitor pointing at him, showing the teacher what the hell just happened.

It wasn't until just now that Sam realized what he really had done. And...he almost felt sorry for them. Maybe he should have listened to the voice inside his head, telling him no. He felt horrified, everything feeling cold and dark, and looked for an escape. Seeing an open door in the corner of the large room leading to the outside of the school, he ran.

And he ran out the door into the open air, the sky cloudy and sad. At first Sam wanted to just head home, but he knew that Dean would just be at work and their father certainly wouldn't help. So the last place was...the library. His small haven, here. There was someone there that could help him out, with little to no judgement.

With that, Sam sprinted, looking behind him the brooding brick building get smaller and smaller with each step.

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**I assume you guys know who's coming next chapter! Review if you can, please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**:3 Thank you guys for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm glad you guys are liking this story so far! Sorry it took a bit, I started watching _Derek _and honestly I couldn't stop. It's such a sweet show. Kinda taught me to be nicer to others and the like. Show's very Hufflepuff, with a side of mild perversion occasionally and one character that's completely awful for a while (*cough* Geoff *cough*).**

**Anyways, as I said before, you guys probably know who's going to show in this chapter. And I hope you'll like him, he's sometimes a bit hard to write.**

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By the time Sam had reached the library downtown, he was out of breath. Usually the teen could run for miles if he so dared, but from all the mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion he had just endured the minutes before, Sam was out of it. The only things he felt was the hard, snowy pavement running beneath his feet and the chilly wind biting against his nose and cheeks; the snow getting caught in front of his glasses and in his hair.

In his adamant rush to leave, the tall boy hadn't brought his jacket, sweater, or jeans. He was only in his gym clothes from before. But the heat and energy by running his way from the school to the library kept him relatively warm. To an extent.

Stopping just a few feet north of the front door of the small and cozy crimson brick building, Sam took a deep breath, heart pounding in his chest and head aching. The bruises and marks covering his body were slowly but surely healing now, he was always a quick healer. Most of the time.

Trying to wipe the snow and water off his glasses, Sam felt awful, inside and out. Back there, he didn't hesitate to beat the hell out of those guys, who had also beaten him to kingdom come. But now, the teen thought that...maybe he should have listened to the tiny voice in his head. In a sense, he wasn't any better than the ones that had tortured him for such a long time.

How was there any way for Sam to atone for it all?

A wave of anxiety and nausea washed itself over him, and an unpleasant amount of bile filled his throat. Breathing in and out several times, the soaked teen finally gained some sense of security and calmness. The bile piled in his throat slowly went down, and the dark lines that were forming in his line of vision crept away, slithering away like a snake.

Trudging up the stone steps, Sam reached the front door of the library and entered, cringing at the bell signaling his arrival.

A reasonably sized building with several windows and old-fashioned lights in front of it, it seemed like a haven at the moment. Looking through the glass panes, Sam could see the huddled bookcases basked in warm yellow light. Two pine tables sat on each inside end of the building, surrounded by several matching chairs, some with cushions, some without.

Melted snow dripped from his clothes and hair, falling onto the worn plum carpet below and soaking his glasses once again. The heat from the building cloaked around his body, feeling good against the fading bruises and his numb limbs. Giving one last shiver, the teen walked closer to the large, tall desk that sat directly in the middle, piled high with books, pens, and blank paper.

Footsteps hurried from the right, and Sam turned to see his friend.

Castiel Hale stood, looking confused and curious, eyes narrowed and slightly squinted in his usual fashion. Wearing a just a nice white shirt with black pants, along with a pair of black Oxford shoes and his beloved (but backwards...Sam never had the heart to tell him) blue tie, he looked quite good. Not that the teen would ever tell him that; that was Dean's territory.

"...Hello, Sam," the librarian said, gravelly tone laced with mild uncertainty. He wasn't used to seeing one of his favorite frequenters arriving so early...especially when school hours were still going. Observing the swollen right eye and faint yellow-green marks dusted across parts of the younger man's body, Castiel knew something wasn't right.

Passing a shy and exasperated smile, Sam rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tender area, "Hey, Castiel. Hehe...didn't think you'd see me this early, did you?"

With a quick flourish, the raven-haired man was mere inches in front of Sam, intense blue eyes staring into his. A bit startled by the sudden movement, the chestnut-haired boy backed up a bit, wondering what had gotten the typically quiet and relaxed man so..._scary._

_Might be with all the bruises across you, _the voice in his head said with mild sarcasm leaking through its' small impression.

Frowning with a hint of anger, Castiel narrowed his eyes again once more, "...May I ask what happened to you? Who did this to you, Sam?" Smelling green tea on his breath, Sam saw the hard and cold look in his eyes that told Sam even though he wasn't upset at him, he was still pissed regardless. Both the teen and the librarian had a close friendship, and this was evident.

Having no desire at this point to make a lie up, Sam explained, "Just some guys at school...no big deal. I took care of it."

"I assume you did. You usually do, Sam. Does your brother know about this?" Cas inquired, tone still hard and unmoving.

The teen frowned, a sinking weight settling itself into the pit of his stomach, "...No. I just came here...after I...you know, took care of those guys I came straight here. I...I couldn't deal with what I just did. So I left.

Giving a sad look, the librarian sighed, "You may have wanted to stay though, Sam. That way you could make it up to yourself and get the consequence of your actions. As much as I understand why you did that...you still have to realize that maybe there was a better way to have dealt with this."

"That's what I expected to hear. But how could I just have let them treat me like that for so long!? You know what they've said and done to me, Cas. I've told you. All of it," Sam almost yelled, voice rising with each emotion that crashed its' way through his body and mind. Anger, desperation, exhaustion, fear, all of it.

Exhaling a drawn out breath, Castiel nodded, a wash of concern, sympathy, and empathy flowing through his face, "I know. I'm not saying that, in a large way, they didn't deserve it. But if you keep on keeping all this inside of you...it's going to hurt someone. You, out of all of it. But I'll call the school and tell them that you're staying here. They'll let me, I'm sure of it."

Relief and happiness floated across Sam's mind, making it feel cool and good. Like drinking cold lemonade on a hot summer's day. He certainly felt better after that talk with Castiel, and hopefully the days ahead wouldn't be too bad. He could only take so much at this moment.

The teen knew he'd have to take the consequences of his actions soon enough, but maybe his bullies and torturers knew now not to mess with Sam Winchester.

The usual calm look returned back onto Castiel's features, and suddenly he didn't look so terrifying anymore. A small smile played across his mouth, liking the present company, even though it wasn't under the best circumstances. The bruises marking the younger man's body needed some tending to, and Castiel was sure of that. He had a first aid kit and the like somewhere, buried underneath all the books and papers that made his home of sorts.

Pulling out a cushioned chair for Sam, the blue-eyed man hurried to go find the said kit. Nodding his thanks, Sam sat down, breathing a sigh at the amazing feeling of comfort. It felt good to finally be sitting down, the aching feeling covering his body now diminishing to a gentle throb.

From the back of one of the bookcases, Sam heard, "By the way, Sam. Your brother left his jacket here the other day. I believe he'd like it back."

Sam's laughter echoed throughout the building.

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**Review please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for your reception! :D We've got a few more chapters to go, then this story is done. By the way, sorry if you thought the ending to the last chapter was horrible. I just thought, "Might as well add some humor, you know?" Anyways: review please, if you can! This chapter is short and a two part, sorry!**

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Sam pressed the thin ice pack onto his eye, sighing and leaning into the coldness. After all the hype and action from the moments before, it was a pleasant change of pace now. The library smelled like old books, dust, damp cotton and wool, mostly likely from Castiel. His worn but loved, tan trench coat hung from desk chair, the bottom of it still damp from the snow outside. A grandfather clock tucked in the corner softly ticked every second, adding to the quiet, yet comforting air the building held.

Unsurprisingly, the school was perfectly fine with Sam staying with the librarian downtown, so long as someone did know where he was. The teen couldn't help but roll his eyes at the statement...because they really didn't care. But then again, it wouldn't be any different for the other students, save that they weren't one of the faculty member's son or daughter.

What the brown-haired boy really waited for, was Dean hearing about it. He'd...be livid. He'd see red. More than red, just black with red tinges. His blood would boil with fury and his face would turn still and hard. Most of all, Dean would feel guilty about "Not protecting his little brother." Something that he shouldn't always have to do, this time Sam took care of himself.

This time he could do it on his own.

Another thing his brother would do is hunt who ever had ever hurt Sam, in any way, down and beat them. The youngest brother knew this to heart, Dean was a protective guy, who guarded those he loved with a harsh passion and drive. That was one of his best and worst qualities. While it told people how much he cared about them, it also got him into a load of trouble. And always will.

A sudden surge of panic rose from the pit of his stomach and scrubbed itself over the teen's face, and he ran a hand through his still wet hair. His slightly damp clothes clung to him, feeling uncomfortable against the warmth of the library.

Castiel busied himself, stacking books in perfect order and writing down them on cards to organize in drawers. As much as he felt an amount of sadness towards the boy sitting a few feet away from him, suddenly looking angry and lost, he was glad he could help.

Sometimes, it's better to lend a helping hand rather than solve the problem entirely on your own.

The blue-eyed man wondered if he should call Dean, thinking that Sam's older brother, and basic guardian should know as soon as possible. But Castiel thought it might be best for Sam to initiate that action. The last thing the man wanted was to make this all worse. He had been in situations like this before himself, and he remembered how much he hated being pitied and losing control.

A small voice yet strong broke Castiel out of his thoughts, "Hey...Cas. Could you, um, call Dean for me? I think...I should probably, you know, tell him."

Feeling the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile, the librarian nodded, "Of course, Sam."

Sam nodded, returning the gesture, "Thanks."

"I'm more than happy to help, Sam. You are my friend."

Reaching for the phone, he punched in the numbers, hoping that Dean wouldn't be too upset by this whole ordeal. But that was mostly likely an understatement, as the raven-haired man knew how much both Winchester brothers cared and looked after one another. He also wondered if the older man would like his leather jacket back, since he _had_ left it during his visit the other day. Which ended in a surprising yet satisfying result with the promise of future meetings.

_Though, most likely not under these circumstances, _Castiel told himself.

After a few rings, a gruff yet unfamiliar voice was heard at the other end, "Hello? Who is this?"

Narrowing his eyes, Castiel answered, "Castiel Hale, can I ask who this is?"

"Oh. Hey, Cas. It's Bobby. Whatda ya need?" the voice inquired. Breathing a small breath of relief, the younger man was grateful that it wasn't someone he'd have to have an awkward and unyielding conversation with. Castiel had met the salvage yard owner a few times in his friendship with the Winchester sons, and rather liked the rough, yet kind man.

"I would like to speak to Dean, please." He heard a huff at the end of the line, and passed a questioning glance to Sam, who still had the ice pack on his eye, the water dripping down his cheek and onto his shirt. The teen shrugged and gave an unsure look.

"Huh. Alright, I'll get the idjit for ya. Nice hearing from you, Cas. Come see me sometime."

"I look forward to it sometime, Mr. Singer." Castiel smiled, glad the man also took a liking to him.

"Don't 'Mr. Singer' me. It's Bobby to you, kid." The man ordered, with no real heat in his voice.

"Thank you."

"Yer welcome. I'll get Dean for you."

Nervousness crept through the librarian's body, and he was suddenly wary of what his reaction would be. When another voice was heard on the line, this time familiar and comforting, Castiel felt some fraction of the nervousness creep away.

"Cas, what's up with the call? Usually you never call...like, ever," Dean's smooth voice, edged with confidence, was now suspicious and unsettling.

"Hello, Dean. And it's about...Sam. He's...not entirely in the best condition," Castiel muttered, not wanting to lie...but also not wanting to sugar-coat it.

Dean asked, voiced laced with worry, "I'll be right there. Is he okay?"

"Yes."

And the line went dead. The younger man sighed, before setting the reciever back into its' cradle. He just hoped this wouldn't end up bad. He threw Sam a bittersweet smile and gave a small shrug. The teen sighed, but looked oddly comforted. Maybe because another someone he trusted was coming, or maybe he could finally get all of this off his chest.

Either way, it'd soon be over.

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**I've been wanting to write Bobby for five million years.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Forty-three followers, wow! I can't say in words how thankful I am! It's impossible. Thank you guys for the reviews to last chapter! I was afraid I didn't write Bobby or Dean, or anyone for that matter too well. I love you guys so much though, more than anything! Whenever you're sad, remember I love you. A lot. :3**

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A nasty and squirming nest of anxiety had made its' home in Sam's stomach. He watched the snowflakes fall in front of the sleek glass of the windows, needing something to focus on. The white of the crystals stood out some against the gray of the harsh weather, outside. If the teen focused hard enough, he could (from his eyes' viewpoint) slow the speed of the snowfall, trying to feel somewhat in control. Of course, Sam couldn't _really_ do all this...but it felt nice to play God for a bit.

Just like before, the youngest Winchester was afraid and unsure of Dean's reaction to all of this. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that he'd be angry...hell, furious or wrathful sounded more accurate. At least Sam knew that his brother wouldn't get violent and break something in the library...the last thing they both needed was something to pay for; let alone Castiel being upset.

_Some people have it worse, _Sam reminded himself. Being humble and cautious of others as always.

Looking around for his friend, the teen found him tucked in the chair of his desk, scribbling something into a notebook. His features appeared passive from Sam's viewpoint. No emotion was a common look on the librarian's face, but it was often easy to spark something into him.

The aching that earlier dug itself into Sam's body was finally gone; but he'd definitely feel it again in the morning. The ice pack that Cas had given him when he first arrived was now melted, the water condensed on the bag dripping heavily onto the carpet of the building. Sam gave a worried look, not wanting to be anymore of a burden than he already was. He dried the plastic-like container with his shirt, not bothered in the slightest. Eventually, the pack was normal again, and Sam held it tightly in his hand.

On any other given day, it wouldn't take Dean this long to arrive, the salvage yard and garage was only a mile or two away. But given the harsh winter outside, it seemed like it would be awhile. This only caused the anxiousness in Sam build more and more, until the lights seemed a tad dimmer than before.

Until the slam of a door told otherwise.

"Sam?! Where are you?" a deep voice commanded. Unyielding and strong, the other two men gave each other the same worried look. Jumping from their seats, they headed quickly to the front of the building not too far away. But it seemed like miles across.

Snow was dusted through Dean's dark blonde hair, and his trademark cargo jacket was damp in a similar fashion. The freckles peppered underneath his eyes and along his cheeks were almost invisible because of his pink skin, bitten from the cold and undoubtedly a mixture of anger. A common Dean Winchester thing.

Standing in front of the snowy man, Sam and Castiel looked impassive, not knowing what to say first. This wasn't a usual situation either of them were ever involved in...so their mouths were sewn shut. A solid and bone-crushing silence filled the room, and the air was made hard to breathe. While some of the churning emotions Sam had felt earlier were lessened, they still lingered.

Without a word, Dean immediately launched himself in front of Sam, the big brother persona leaking through without restrain. He patted the unseen marks and bruises decorating the teen's body and skin, giving a silent apology with each wince. Once he deemed Sam's condition sufficient enough, Dean's features softened by a fraction. The older brother made a low sound in the back of his throat, words not surfacing at the moment.

Sam sighed, "Dean, I'm fine."

"Who did this, Sam?" Dean ordered. Cas was silent, knowing better than to interrupt. This wasn't his place right now.

"Just a group of guys who thought it was best to torment me. I took care of it...it's perfectly alright. I left when it got too much...and I headed here. Cas looked after me. Everything is fine."

The man in front of him almost seemed to snarl, his mouth turning up in the worst way, "That explains your lack of clothes. I swear to God, they're gonna pay for it. I'll kick their asses."

Grabbing his brother's arms, Sam frowned, "I told you. I took care of it."

"Doesn't mean shit, Sam. What if they do this again, or worse than before? Where am I gonna be?" Dean retorted, voice getting darker and darker with each syllable. Protective wasn't even beginning to cover this. But as said previously, Dean's worst and best quality was his heart of gold and overwhelming urge to guard those he loved.

Sam looked away, not entirely knowing the answer to those questions. He didn't need his brother to look after him constantly, but that also didn't mean that he didn't need him sometimes. There were some things Sam Winchester could do and some things he could not.

The green-eyed man gave a satisfied sound, and made his voice softer, "See? Look, Sammy, I'm proud of you. I knew you could kick ass...just didn't think it would be right now."

"I _can_ look after myself, Dean."

"I didn't say you couldn't. But next time tell me when you're having problems like this; got it?"

Feeling semi-defeated, the teen nodded. While he was surprised Dean hadn't taken this as disruptive and explosive as he could have, Sam still wished this didn't even happen. It was over, for the most part. There was still the brick structure that loomed ahead several hundred feet away that started all this.

Dean passed a look to Castiel, and immediately his eyes looked brighter and less fiery. The dark-haired man threw a tiny smile, glad that this seemed to come to about as much as a resolution as it could have.

Rubbing the nape of his neck, Dean muttered, "Thanks Cas...for looking after Sam." Said teen couldn't help but roll his eyes, seeing already that his brother was turning into a blushing, stumbling mess.

"You're welcome Dean. He's more capable of watching himself than you think. There's no stopping you when it comes to your brother...is there?" The deep baritone of Cas' voice seemed to have struck a chord.

The garage worker's face turned a shade of bright pink, and he huffed a nervous laugh, "I guess not. I'll deal with it later...you think he'll be okay at school...you know, after this?"

_I'm right here, _Sam mentally reminded the both of them.

Glancing at the teen, Castiel nodded, "Sam is smart enough to carve his way through. And he does have friends to help him, and us."

After all this, this was the first time Sam thought about Gabriel. And immediately with the sight of gold eyes and honey-colored hair, Sam's stomach did a small flip, and his chest tightened. He adjusted his glases, need something to do. What would Gabriel and the rest think about this?

But that didn't matter right now, as the events of today finally hit Sam and he felt tired, a heavy weight landing along his frame. He was emotionally and physically exhausted, and wanted nothing more than a warm shower and a bed.

Dean's voice cut through his thoughts, "Come on, Sam. You look whipped."

Castiel cleared his throat, seeming suddenly embarrassed, "Dean, you had forgotten your jacket the other day during your visit." With a turn, he headed for the back of the building, leaving a red-faced older brother and a smirking younger one.

Handing the leather jacket to him, their fingers brushed for a second, and Sam was on the verge of telling them both to just get it over with already.

"Th-Thanks, Cas," Dean replied, putting the brown jacket over his cargo one, adding to the typical, multiple layers he usually wore.

"Again, you're welcome, Dean."

"See you, Cas," the two Winchesters said in unison. Castiel nodded before heading back to his desk and writing once more in his notebook.

Heading out the front door, Sam snickered. The weather only grew worse, the snow flying through the air and the gusts of wind skin-bitting and unforgiving. White crystals piled along the ground, and the only other color was the pale yellow of front lights of cars. The Impala was parked right in front of the library, as usual.

Dean heard Sam's laughter, and growled, "Shut up."


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry** for such a long wait. The summer heat's killing me and also...I had a bit of a writer's breakdown yesterday. Sorry, I was making this about myself again. When really this should only be about the story! This is a quick, short chapter. **

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Luckily enough, their father seemed also snowed in at the moment, but had the chance to call. Away on business as usual, he wouldn't be back for a few days. And with the snow and wind, maybe more. His eldest son was positive that he'd make it. But Dean being Dean, he gave a concerned look every once in a while at nothing, brow knitted together and green sparks for eyes softer.

His youngest was fine whether or not he came back, not caring about too much about anything at the moment. An odd thing for Sam Winchester. Storms of thoughts and feelings churned and swam through his head, creating a loss of focus. The noises made by Dean playing Xbox in the next room seemed too loud; the bed too hard, and the pillows and blankets too scratchy. His room felt too cold and he couldn't feel his toes.

You'd think if you were tired out of your mind, you would fall asleep in a blink of an eye.

Thankfully, he had gotten out of his soaked gym clothes and into something more comfortable, so there was that mere comfort. Gray sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt were Sam's ideal choice: he liked the feel of the soft fabric.

Staring up at the cream-colored ceiling, which looked slightly fuzzy due to the lack of glasses, the teen tried his best to scrub away all the murky-ness swirling through his cranium. Tinges of anxiety and guilt pinged across his chest, aching worse than his bruises before. His past encounter with the jerks that decided that their time was better spent beating the crap out him felt fresh. And in a way it was.

Floppy chestnut hair flew through the air, as Sam shook his head. That was now in the past, and all he could do now was learn from his mistakes and not do it again. Walk forward and never turn back. Simple as that.

Though...nobody said it was easy.

Leaning his head into a pillow, Sam wanted nothing more than to sink into the darkness and be blank. Sleep seemed far away, angry fatigue gnawing at him, but with no result. Emptiness just seemed the only thing available at the moment.

Until Sam heard a faint buzzing next to his ear. It was his phone, that he only kept at home, never bringing it to school for fear of it being smashed to pieces by someone. God knows John would have his ass for breaking it.

A small mobile, it was plain but effective, the owner sighed before grabbing it and tapped the screen. One tiny crack decorated the upper right-hand corner, made by Azazel himself the first day Sam felt brave and dumb enough to bring it to Kripke High.

The bright light burned the boy's eyes, and he blinked them several times, but it was close enough to where Sam wouldn't have to wear his glasses. There wasn't much point to that, since he'd just take them off seconds later anyways.

Checking the name of the sender, Sam's stomach dropped. _Gabriel _stood in bold letters above the digital message. No doubt him, Balthazar, and Crowley noticed he was gone after gym class. Admittedly, it is rather hard to lose Sam Winchester, being almost six feet and the like. A lump developed in Sam's throat, and suddenly he was afraid of what Gabriel would think when he'd hear what happened.

He might be pissed. He might be neutral toward it all. While, like Dean, he was protective and loyal, the golden-eyed teen knew fully well people can take care of themselves and not always need saving. To an extent.

_Where the hell have you been, kiddo? I heard what happened...you alright?_

Without thinking, Sam quickly typed his response, a rushing feeling overcoming him: _Dude, I'm fine. It's all taken care of.__  
_

Pushing the send button with a calloused finger, the brown-haired teen instantly felt better. Deep down, he felt a small spark of relief and joy that Gabriel seemed so worried about him. Sure Sam didn't like Dean fretting over him all the time, but it was somewhat different when it comes to a person that you seem head over heels for. Annoying older brothers and brilliant crushes were on two different sides of the spectrum.

The buzzing started up again, and Sam's hand desperately reached for it. You would have thought it was made out of solid gold.

_Pffft. Bitch please. I'm coming over there, Samsquatch. Just wait for me. By the way, I'm pretty impressed by the way you beat those S. o. Bs up. Didn't think you had it in ya. I would have done it, if you had just asked. _

Rolling his eyes, the taller teen scowled, before pushing the buttons with extra and unnecessary pressure: _You sound like Dean. And no, you're not coming over. It's snowing like Hell and I'm really not in the mood. _

Breathing an exasperated sound through his mouth, Sam ran a hand through his hair. His heart was pounding, this being on the few times he had ever texted someone. He didn't have too many friends, so what could he possibly do on a phone?

The annoying buzzing pierced through the air once more, and no doubt Dean was probably wondering what the hell was going on.

_Don't care. Snow can't stop me. Besides, I'm already outside. Dean-o probably doesn't want me inside your house, so get your ass out here before I freeze to_ _death._

A micro growl escaped Sam's mouth, and already he wondered what kind of drug he was on to actually have a crush on someone like this. Obnoxious, pointlessly loyal, and yet worth it.

Grabbing his glasses and climbing out of bed, he pulled on a pair of socks and hopped on a pair of old boots lying around. Adoring a blue sweater on, warmth caressed his frame and Sam felt lighter.

Heading out of his room, he walked past Dean, who had his headset on and yelled commands at the screen. If you poked hard enough, you could get the older Winchester to admit to his love of all things typically nerdy. References were his thing, yet he still called Sam the nerd. Not hearing him, the green-eyed man didn't bother to turn around.

Smirking and tugging on his spare jacket, Sam headed outside into the cold, the two doors slamming behind him. Icy wind nipped at his ears and nose, and snow already started to stick to his lashes and unruly hair. Sparkling white covered everything, and it was hard to see anything. Until a dark silhouette peaked through it all, contrasting greatly, the person's boots making loud noises against the snow.

"It's freezing out here! Damn..." the figure said, its' voice unforgettable to Sam's ears.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

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**Okay, there's a lil self-promo right here. For those of you who have read _I'll Try to Help You,_ I've added a poll onto my profile here for what I should do next for it! Because I just want to do one more tiny thing for it. Your choices are: Sabriel re-write of the story (where Sam or Gabriel has the stutter and Destiel being the smaller pairing), a wedding chapter, your own request (requires message/contact me) OR do nothing at all and keep it closed and done! Promo over.**


	11. Sorry

**So...I think I'm going to stop writing for a bit. I just don't feel confident in my writing anymore, or atleast right now. I'm gonna take a break for a while...at least a few weeks! I'll still beta, though.**

**Every time I write I just feel like I'm boring the hell out of you guys, that you're only saying your wonderful things because 1. I ask you to review. and 2. You guys are too nice to me.**

**I'm taking a break for now...until then, see ya.**


	12. Chapter 11

****I deeply apologize for the hiatus for all my stories! I'd like to thank every one of you that sent me a lovely, heartfelt PM or review towards any of my stories, they meant so much to me and there aren't enough words in this world alone to tell you guys how much I appreciated it. I love all of you, and again, there's no way I can repay you. ****

****Though I hope this chapter satisfies you, because I already have the second to last already being typed up as we speak! It should be arriving soon, before this story finally ends. This is a two-part. Review if you can, please!****

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Golden eyes narrowed in mock hurt and a flamboyant hand waved in the air, "Come on, Sam. You know we're both asses; in our own special way. Everyone is!" Rolling his eyes once more, the taller teen couldn't help but agree somewhat. But people could also change for the better, and that hope is true, fair, and priceless.

That particular belief is what Sam Winchester had always kept close to his heart.

Icy winds howled around their bodies, filling their ears and making the air seem closer and crueller. Going back into his bed: were warmth and comfort lay ahead didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment.

That'd be rude, with a guest here. Or really...a trespasser. Depending on who you asked.

Staring hard at the shiner Sam was still adorning, healing to an ugly green color, Gabriel frowned, jaw tightening. Deep inside, he was more than pissed. Hell...livid sounded more appropriate. Fire burned where a soul held its' place.

He had made himself Sam's guardian, someone to protect, and now it seemed like he failed. As romanticized and dramatic this all appeared...it was happening.

Balthazar, Crowley, and him had already done what they did best. After hearing about what happened with the tallest, nerdiest Winchester and a group of jocks/bullies during gym class, revenge was in order.

Over time, thankfully, the one raven-haired and two blonde teens had warmed up to Sam.

Well, Crowley was more of an awkward friend than anything and Balthazar was just someone who you could screw around with but never really get to know.

But either way, the three weren't happy about what took place. All little itching powder, glue, and other assorted goodies was all it took to get the assailants to lay off. Uniforms, cups, and any other sports-related equipment was now irritating to the touch, or stuck in unsavory places.

Maybe it didn't equal the damage done to their good friend or others in the school. But it was certainly a start.

"Why'd you leave? From what I saw and heard, ya packed quite a punch!" Gabriel's voice boomed through the space between them, loud as usual and covered in mirth.

Dreading, heavy weights piled themselves on the chestnut-haired, glasses-clad, and brace-covered mouthed boy, guilt seeping into his bones like before. He had done something wrong, inflicted pain because he felt it too.

Of course, those boys deserved it rightfully...but regardless, in that moment, Sam was no better than them. While he had proved himself strong enough to look after himself and take care of his problems...eventually he'd have to make up for it. Be the better person than them: even more so. Turn a wrong into a right.

Maybe this was all a twisted sense of justice and self-righting...but it seemed okay at the time. The past was in the past, and he'd have to deal with the now.

Rubbing the nape of his neck, feeling the soft, fine hairs there, Sam held his breath for a second before speaking, "I, uh...freaked out I guess. People saw what I did...and I just left. Couldn't take it." Trying to sound solid and sure, but instead sounding torn on the edges and uneasy.

Gabriel's gaze turned gentler, and he took a step forward, giving the taller teen a better view. Crystals of cold white snow stuck to dark lashes looked...almost beautiful against his lightly tanned skin. Feeling marginally better already, getting that off his chest with a friend...and crush; an even smaller weight lifted from his middle.

Pulling one of his usual expressions, the shorter teen shrugged, "Don't know why ya did," he ended with a breath, before staring down at the snow beneath their feet. But before Sam could reply sharply, an assaulting pair of eyes glanced up through snow-covered lashes, looking serene and small, "You shouldn't feel bad for any of it, Samsquatch. They deserved it; you and me both know it."

Blush broke through the skin across his cheeks and nose, and Sam shook his head and muttered, "Dude, 's not that. Well, I just...I guess I do feel bad about it. Sure they beat me to hell, and yeah they're jerks. But in that moment, I was no better than them." His voice grew louder, but also more broken, "_I _was the one watching myself pummel them to the ground. _I'm _the one that has to make up for it. No one else but me."

With those last few words, micro but burning tears sprang into Sam's eyes, feeling odd against the cold numbness of his face. All that just happened in the last couple hours or so came tumbling back to his mind and soul, crushing like a heavy weight. To others, all this would seem melodramatic and not much of a big deal, and in some ways it was. But the kind but stubborn teen couldn't bypass the fact that he had done something he'd never thought he'd do for the first time.

It was almost too much.

A sorrow yet concern noise emitted itself from Gabriel's throat, and the smaller boy leaned forward and up to brush away the beginnings of tears brimming in tip-tiled, hazel eyes so usually filled with love, life, and the most beautiful mix of sadness and hope Gabriel had ever seen in his entire lifetime.

Closing his eyes at the touch and gently leaning in, Sam breathed a mournful puff of breath. The heavy and impending weights crushing himself seemed to lighten by a meager amount, but still something nonetheless.

Within a handful of seconds, with no warning or sign, their lips met. Soft pink strips of skin chapped and cold from the winter winds and snow moved together in slow but practiced motions. Bodies pressed closer, desperate for further contact and warmth. The world around them seemed to melt away, sounds becoming deafened then gone; save the tugs of air from their breath and the sound of their beating hearts.


	13. Chapter 12

**Thanks for your reviews, favorites, and follows, people! I love you guys, gals, and other folk! :D This is the second to last chapter, and soon...this story will be done. It'll take me a bit to write the final ending, so don't worry if it takes a while. This chapter isn't too plot-progressing, just a filler. **

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Gentle buzzing was all that filled Sam's head, pleasurable and comforting. Smelling of candy, the damp woolen cloth from his earmuffs, and..._glue?_ Gabriel seemed the only existing thing there. Words never said before, being in the past few weeks that they've finally gotten to know one another were finally said. Love, friendship, loyalty, and trust all shown in one simple and complicated gesture.

Feeling fingers curl around the fabric of his sweater, a tingle surged through Sam, and he leaned more into the contact. While his legs were freezing to the core and his ears were only partly covered by his hair, the wind nipping at their tips, the teen had never felt more warm in his entire life. Maybe it was the combination of body heat, the contact, all of those things. Or maybe it was something so much more.

Thoughts about the boy standing in front of Sam, only thing keeping him from floating away; were coursing through his mind like running water. Natural, fresh, and calming, occasionally being interrupted by a crippling spark of something else:

_His favorite food is pizza. (Any kind, it doesn't matter.)_

_Has two brothers, who always fight. He's the dividing line...and he hates it._

_He likes to think being a guardian is what he's meant to do._

_Favorite movie is The Notebook, (you're the only one that knows this)._

_While he thinks flowers are cheesy, he loves them nonetheless._

_Red is his favorite color, along with gold._

__How are my braces not screwing this up?__

_Stars are his favorite thing in the sky. Tiny, beautiful, sparkling stars._

_He's the most amazing person you've ever known. Makes you laugh when you don't think you can, watches your back when you're only forward and no where else, and turns your world upside down._

_You're in love, Sam._

Pulling apart a bit finally, cheeks rosy and flushed, the pair smiled gently at one another, almost sorry for what they did. Fixing his glasses, Sam looked down at the snow-covered ground, the world coming back to them.

"...Don't worry, kiddo. We'll get through this. I know we will," the shorter one reassured, confidence and mischief slowly making its' usual path back into himself. Lowering his head, Sam's forehead touched Gabriel's: golden hair mixing with a mop of chestnut. Two pairs of eyes, one shimmering hazel and an otherworldly gold locking on.

They stood there for a while, in a loose embrace, snowflakes dancing around them, neither of them freezing, more than happy to share body heat.  
Sam sighed in content, before blinking snow out of his lashes, "Yeah...we will."

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"Uh...Sam, who's car is that parked out there?" Dean asked gruffly, gesturing his coffee cup towards the general direction of where he was looking. The two brothers had been seated at their small kitchen table, eating breakfast before Sam needed to head to school. Yes, after all that, he was going to dare heading back into that hell hole. The teen wanted to prove that he wasn't weak, and that he was something to be respected. Besides...Gabriel would be there.

Before looking out the window and answering Dean's question, Sam looked away and smiled, thinking about the short, golden teen who stole his heart and played around with it like a toy. A well-loved, though still entertaining toy.

Glancing at the frost-covered window, the boy saw a carmine-red Camaro, parked haphazardly in their white backyard, looking like an elegant, but enormous drop of blood. How the hell did Gabriel get a car like that? It shone, even in the darkness of a winter morning. Looking freshly cleaned, hell...waxed would be more precise. In the weeks-turned-months that Sam had known Gabriel, he had never known he either worked or had rich parents.

Probably the latter.

Sam cleared his throat, suddenly conscious of Dean's hard stare latching onto him, "S'a, uh...a friend. Kevin. You know Kevin, right?" Dean _had_ known Kevin Tran for about two years, and rather liked the brilliant, busy teen. The older Winchester considered Tran a member of their family, going by Bobby's famous line of "Family don't end with blood, boy."

And that was true. Relation of blood wasn't relevant in the slightest. Both sons knew that.

Suspicion quickly manifested over Dean's face, and he quirked an eyebrow, "Doesn't it seem a little too...Kardashian for 'im?"

Rubbing the nape of his neck, and feeling the soft, baby hairs to calm himself, Sam quickly replied, "It's his girlfriend's car...she's pretty, uh, you know...wealthy so she lets him borrow it."

Finding that to be a shitty excuse, the older rolled his eyes and nodded, not bothering to press any further. For once, Dean let the mama bear demeanor fall, and told himself Sam could protect himself. He had kinda proven that already.

"Whatever," Dean quipped, drinking the rest of his coffee and putting the empty mug in the sink, "just get going, bitch. Better not be late."

Internally sighing with relief, Sam rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, hoping to keep this act up, "Yeah yeah, jerk." Throwing a taupe-colored sweater over his t-shirt, Sam grabbed his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and said his goodbyes. Closing the front door firmly behind him, Sam shivered as the chill air blasted around him. Maybe he should have worn something over this sweater...

Too late. Gabriel's car would no doubt have really good heating. So, trudging through some of the powdery snow, now halfway up to his ankles, the teen headed for the red vehicle parked a few feet away, pop-rock blaring through, sounding even louder in the winter silence.

Opening the car door, Sam climbed in. Adoring a pair of sunglasses, Gabriel looked better than ever, charm once again leaking out. Albeit comical though. But that was his style. Pecking a small kiss on the shorter boy's cheek, Sam felt a blush appear at his sudden action. But brushed it off as he saw Gabriel's smile. It was well worth the self-embarrassment.

Shutting the door with a firm pull, the taller teen furrowed his brow, "Whataya wearing sunglasses for? It's December."

Gabriel scoffed, before pulling out of the Winchester's driveway and going on the road, "'Cause I can! Besides, makes me look like cool." While Sam agreed to a small amount, he still would never understand his boyfriend's quirks and way of things. Nests of anxiety and anguish writhed in the brown-haired teen's stomach, and as the minutes ticked by, he was suddenly aware that he was going back to Hell. What was he going to do?

As if sensing his worries, Gabriel wrapped his free arm around his taller boyfriend's shoulders, his left hand on the steering wheel and goldenrod eyes still affixed to the windshield, the wipers going back and forth in a familiar, soothing motion.

Leaning in to the touch, Sam watched the scenery go by.


End file.
